I take solace in shitty music.

I have a new nightly ritual. I have an embarrassing amount of shitty music, and I play it every night. Yeah, I still have my nightly classical music ritual... that comes later on. The shitty music is more late-night blog-checking homework-avoiding music.

And I rock the fuck out. Oh my god, do I rock out. I turn off my last.fm scrobbler so nobody will ever know what's being blared through my speakers, and I rock out. Dancing, head-banging, air guitar, singing into the hairbrush, sliding across my hardwood floors in my socks... whatever the cliché "dance like no one's watching" action is, I probably perform it nightly. It's not even music! It's ear candy, with "doo doo doo"s and breakdowns where the lead singer talks, chanting that turns into a crowd chanting (cue the fist pumps), poorly performed drum fills... it's not music, it's not art. It's musical fluff. These "musicians" are purely entertainment that's spoon-fed to the public through popular radio, tabloids, and hype that they cannot possibly live up to.

And I eat it up. I dig in with an embarrassing amount of vigor.

The thing is that I pride myself on my taste in music. I have a very diverse musical taste, and I like good music. I like music with a beat, music with a riff, music with a message, music that's really poetry, music that's built well, complete with an exposition, rising action, a climax, and falling action. Musical trilogies? Concept albums? Bring 'em on. I love it.

Even artists like Kanye West are ones that I flaunt. I am unashamed of the fact that I love Kanye West. He needs an attitude adjustment more than 98% of artists out there, but he's much like Muhammad Ali -- he talks shit, but he backs it up. He's fucking awesome, and I will defend him, because he is awesome.

And then there are my deep dark secrets: the music that I acquire and burn onto CDs that are labeled things like "Eric Clapton's Greatest Hits" and "The Best of Yes," so as to conceal the fact that I actually listen to this musical bullshit.

I don't know why, really. I shouldn't be ashamed of anything I listen to. It's popular music. I'm definitely not the only one who listens to this music. I just can't bring myself to admit that I like, listen to, own anything by these people. They are stricken from my iPod and my Last.fm. Only a select few know that I publicly hate and privately love a few of these artists.

The thing is, though, I take solace in the fact that it's mine. I know for a fact that the album I'm listening to right now is so terrible, so awful, that not a single one of my friends owns the whole thing. Aside from me. I'm the only person that I know that owns this album and has listened to the whole thing over ten times. And I'm okay with it.

I just won't admit it.

Someday, I'll make a real live post about my life. I swear to god. I left a comment on Sam's blog yesterday and it made me miss my old snark. It will return soon. I've been fucking sick as a dog the last three days and am subsequently tired as hell and drained of most of my fluids, creative and otherwise, so check the layout, listen to the song, and wait patiently.

"Stronger Than Me" by Amy Winehouse. I've been wanting to get this tune to Fuller for like a month now. (PS: I have your Sarah Fuller's Birthday Was A Month Ago Mix, aka The Post-Birthday Mix completed. This was on it. It now is not.)

Oh yeah, how about a surprise bonus song, just for Carissa? Sounds good to me.

EDIT: Snoop Dogg's new video. The song SUCKS but the video is AMAZING.

Does the girl in my header look like Sarah Fuller or what?

I hope Thanksgiving was wonderful for everyone. Here are five things I am thankful for (in no particular order):

1- Clarity, inspiration, and vision -- three things that I was granted with this year.
2- Elvis Costello.
3- My wonderful, fabulous, unbelievably great roommates: Alex, Pat, and Damon. They've made the transition from Onalaska to Minneapolis nearly flawless. And, let's face it, my apartment is pretty fucking great, but it wouldn't be nearly as fantastic as it is without great roommates. (I'm also pretty grateful that I have a roommate who knows the bus system like she knows her own name.)
4- The coolest family and friends that a gal could ask for. This year was a hard one, no doubt, but you were all there for me for whatever I needed. Some of you even made the trek down to Onalaska to preserve my sanity. I'm especially grateful for one Jackie Richmond, the baddest girl La Crosse has ever seen. I would have withered away completely without that girl. Jesus, am I blessed or what? < /gush >
5- The fact that I am seventeen minutes away from being reunited with my very favorite girl from Las Vegas, Miss Megan Koegel.

Ups and downs, happiness and anger, it all comes and goes. Life's good.

I don't get to talk to most of my friends as often as I'd like. Everyone (including myself) is so fucking busy that it's easy to go a week (at least!) without talking to my dearest friends. When we do end up connecting, it's a lot of "...oh yeah, didn't I tell you?"s and "god, it's been that long since we've talked?"s and frankly, it sucks.

A recent post by Miss Fuller gave me a good idea. It doesn't alleviate the problem by any means, but the post was the inspiration for the two following FIVE lists that will hopefully reacquaint you with... me.

Five Things That Haven't Changed Since The Last Time We Spoke To Each Other:
-I still hate "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond with all the fires of hell. That song is the musical incarnation of the Antichrist. There's nothing I hate more in the world than that song. If you think I'm kidding in any way, you obviously haven't spent enough time with me.

-I still know way more about pop culture than anyone else (except Samantha Scott), and continue to maintain that if you were on a quiz show, you'd want me as your lifeline.

-I still talk to all my TV shows... especially the ones I'm REALLY into. I cannot watch "Heroes" without Alex (or someone else who likes the show) because then I just end up talking to myself out loud. Even watching "House" tonight (which sucks this season, although tonight's episode was kind of better), I talked through the whole thing. "It's Lupus, right? It's always Lupus. Oh he totally swallowed the key! Ohhhh the magnets in the machine must have ripped that shit right through him. Is he lying? They always lie. Oh! I liked him, why did he fire him? I miss Chase. Where's Cuddy?" Wow, that must be annoying. Still... the television has to know how I feel...

-I still am not a fucking morning person. I still need a solid hour before I can be civil to anyone in the morning. DO NOT WAKE ME UP. If you've done it, you know. Enough said.

-Sometimes I still cry when I listen to Low... and my heart beats really really really fast when I see boys who might resemble Al Sparhawk. My palms get real sweaty and all of the awkward encounters I've had with him flash before my eyes: Luce, when Dan Sarles shoved me into him, forcing conversation -- again at Luce, making gutteral noises when he stood behind me and Colby trying to reassure me that he poops like any other normal human being -- Sir Ben's, when I hid in the kitchen, for fear of having to ask Al Sparhawk what kid of mustard he wanted -- passing him while walking down Superior Street, trying to conjure up something to say to him, but ending up walking past him muttering to myself... god, I guess I should just scratch this whole point and say that I'm still fucking awkward.


Five Things That May Be New Since The Last Time We Spoke To Each Other:
-I've rediscovered my soft spot for Disney movies, thanks to Alex. I actually own a staggering number of Disney movies on DVD. I basically have them because Disney targeted my exact demographic perfectly with their "OMG HURRY THEY'RE GOING BACK INTO THE VAULT FOREVERRRRR!!!" marketing campaign. I never really watched them, however, until discovering Alex's blatant passion for the movies. We've seen an obscene amount of animated movies recently, and I'm not exaggerating. You name it, I've probably seen it in the last week or so. I dream in animation now... animation where animals talk and sing.

-I don't fall in love with everyone. OH MY GOD, that's huge, right? Yeah. I mean, I still probably fall in love with more people than the average person does, but it's way under control. For example, technically, I should be in love with my design professor. He's a cute artist who is about thirty years old and can quote "The Big Lebowski" line for line and loves the Beastie Boys and has a constant five o'clock shadow... but I don't love him, and believe me, I tried to convince myself I was wrong. This is growth, right? This is maturity. Right?

-I don't wear pants much. I lounge around in my underwear or in my comfy-ass pajama pants until the last possible second. When I come home, I hang up my keys and take my shoes and pants off. Truth. Was that TMI?

-I'm hesitating to say this because it's not entirely different, but I'm getting better with directions. I'm not FANTASTIC or anything, but I'm certainly better than I used to be, which is surprising because a) outside of the grid system (which is actually kind of fucked up), Minneapolis is confusing, and b) Minneapolis is much larger than any city I've ever lived in, so naturally I'd get more confused. Outside of the usual places I go (school, work, the Matz residence, my brother's, my father's, and any area between the downtown area and five blocks south of my house), I'm kind of fucked on directions, but it's an improvement that I am proud of.

-I listen to a lot of classical music lately, specifically Vivaldi. Every night for about forty-five minutes, I sit still in my room and listen to "The Four Seasons," although sometimes I switch it up and listen to Beethoven's Symphony No. 6. Why? Search me. I feel super snobby, but it's kind of a nice snobbery.


I now demand that my other bloggers do the same... and my dearly beloved friends who lurk my blog (ahem Ferche) should leave theirs in my comments.

PS: Cobra Starship really fucking sucks. I'm not even going to tell you how I know that. All I know is that they really really fucking suck.

Once upon a time I saw a polka band, had some great beer, and looked really fucking good.

Ladies and gentlemen, bloggers of all ages, let me tell you a little bit about a girl named Chantelle. She's an actress living in the big bad city of New York. She just finished touring the country, teaching kids all about safely using electricity. She does a killer Christopher Walken impression and is starting to get a slight Irish accent that's really quite endearing. She's a fantastic gal.



















Did I mention she's gorgeous beyond all comprehension and I had a fantastic time shooting her?


Special thanks to:
Matz, responsible for wardrobe, hair, and makeup; artistic coordinator and posing coach.
Alex, the god damn best key grip and props master this side of the Mississippi.

I owe about a hundred phone calls and even more apologies, a Norman Mailer obituary, and a proper encapsulation of how much I adore these three girls named Alex, Sarah, and Chantelle, but I'm throwing three songs your way that I currently am physically unable to live without. Since when was this a music blog? It's not, but there's so much fucking happening right now in the hustle and bustle of my current location of Hipstertown, USA that it's all I can really manage. I pinkie swear that I'll have something interesting coming up soon (because God knows that I've got enough material).

Here you are. You definitely need that first one. Actually, the second one too. You know, really, you should probably just take all three of them and judge for yourself.

James Taylor - Carolina In My Mind
You know it. You love it. Simplistic and sweet. I have nothing to say, the song speaks for itself.

Loudon Wainwright III - Motel Blues (2004)
This song floats. Well, Loudon himself just kind of floats. He's one of those musicians who'd rather perform live than to record himself. This version is nice because it was originally written in 1971 and performed sometime in 2004, when Wainwright was in his late fifties. Yeah, he's married with four kids and a family that's dysfunctional as hell, but you still believe that he's just this lonely rock and roll star who's just searching for some kind of intimacy. "Never mind those desk clerk scowls, I'll buy you breakfast, they'll think you're my wife." It sounds sleazy out of context (especially when he mentions at the beginning of the song that the girl is nineteen years old), but I think it's sweet. (Surprise, surprise. Anniemosity never changes.) "Save my life. Come up to my motel room. Save my life." I almost want to.

Tom Waits - Alice
Atmospheric and haunting, it's been my favorite Waits song for about six months now, and I just can't get over it. Referring to Alice from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll, it's unbelievably dark, and yet, somehow romantic. Waits at his best. In the right mood, you will cry. You will cry a lot. Sometimes you may just sit there and bawl into the emptiness and feel like whatever is behind this song understands. It's not emo -- it's Waits.


When you stay up late into the night thinking about job offers, schooling that walks that fine line of amazing and horrendous, wonderful people in your life that you really don't deserve, fuck ups, good choices, and the overall awesome state of things, you need a soundtrack. This is mine.

Here's the goddamn truth. I have a really awesome sense of style... I just don't use it.

For real, when was the last time you saw me wear something that wasn't a band t-shirt and a pair of jeans, or a long-sleeved monochromatic t-shirt and a pair of jeans, or some kind of black top and a pair of jeans? (Halloween does not count.) Yeah, I thought so.

This morning, I stumbled across my new favorite blog, and while browsing between Mindy's cute and enthusiastic tips, something I've been kicking around in my head for a long time came to sudden fruition.

I really want/need to start dressing like a grown-up. Or at the very least, a girl. I dress like my brother right now, and it needs to stop. (No offense Eric.) Being currently unemployed kind of makes the entire wardrobe overhaul slightly more difficult... more like "out of the question until I get hired at one of the fabulous places I am currently stalking."

I've been secretly wanting to do this for a few years, but I've had these ridiculous body issues that have prevented my brain from allowing myself to wear what I really want to. Stupid? Obviously, but you know how it is. I'm working on losing the stupidity, I'm on a rigorous exercise regimen, and I've enlisted the help of the two most fashion-savvy gals I know for assistance (...one of them doesn't know it yet... you will).

Obviously it's going to be a slow process, and my RHCP shirt is not getting thrown away, but my awesome sense of style is going completely to waste, and I will not have it any more. Watch out, fly friends -- I'm joining you... soon.

PS: You need to start reading Mindy's blog, for real. Not only is she cute, fun, and full of awesome blogs, but she's also Kelly Kapoor on "The Office" (and she's one of the writers too -- I didn't know that).

And finally, one gem I forgot to share yesterday: "E18" by Detektivbyrån, whatever that means. It's fucking awesome.

It seems to me that you are not the only soul out there searching for some new music. I, for example, am in a perpetual search for new music, always looking for the next song that I love more than life itself, always looking for the next album to change my life. This being the case, I have so much music that I've never listened to that I don't have to look much farther than my own external hard drive to find new music, thanks to my musically-inclined and enthusiastic peers.

Here are seven new songs for you. I wish I could say that I hand-picked these just for you, Hinn, and not for lack of trying, but I just couldn't decide if you'd like the songs or not... so I made a mini mix, if you will, just in general. (Fat Tony -- ignore two of these songs please.)


Kiss - Strutter
I jumped on the Kiss bandwagon embarrassingly late (three weeks ago). The only songs I ever knew were "Rock And Roll All Nite" and "I Was Made For Lovin' You." This song is rapidly catching up to "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love" by Van Halen as my morning bus trip song.


UFO - Rock Bottom
Smacks of classic rock, but I'd never heard of UFO before this song, which is embarrassing after reading their Wikipedia article (although the name Phil Mogg is wildly familiar for some reason). Anyway, this song reminds me a little of Deep Purple. Check it out.


Arctic Monkeys - Brainstorm
Another band I got into way too late (although in a much different way... I mean, the Arctic Monkeys are not Kiss). Everyone went on and on about how awesome the Arctic Monkeys are, so I checked them out and was unbelievably disappointed. I discovered this song about a week ago and was pleasantly surprised. Do it up, Arctic Monkeys. You're still not the best band ever, but you'll do.


The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now
Have I pushed this song on you before? I'm pushing it on everyone and I probably won't stop. I mentioned them here but I picked the wrong song. Listen listen listen listen listen listen listen to this song.


Brother Ali - Take Me Home
Ahhhhh, Brother Ali. How I love thee. How I hope I'll see thee at CSS. How I've tried and tried (yet managed to fail every time) to see thee live. How happy this song makes me.


Red Hot Chili Peppers - Save the Population
I have pretty much every RHCP song you've never heard, and I happened to choose the one that you may have heard. I love the melody of the chorus and John's harmonizing at the end. Why the hell am I justifying putting a RHCP song on my list? Fuck, you know.


Colin Hay - Beautiful World
Here's the thing about Colin Hay. I love his voice. I love his melodies. I love his music. I love some of his lyrics but actually hate most of them (except when he was with Men Without Hats -- "Land Down Under" is perfect in every way). "I like drinking Irish tea / With a little bit of lapsang souchong / I like making my own tea." Fucking good for you, Colin. But... I love the music and melody of this song so much that I'll overlook the fact that 80% of the lyrics are dumb as shit. It's okay. It's okay.

I hope that you find at least one song that tickles your fancy, Miss Hinn (and other assorted readers). I can always try again. God knows I'll discover something completely different next week.

Love, Anniemosity



Next up: Halloween '07, aka Anniemosity's First Halloween in Minneapolis. Also, I've decided that every single person who spent this Halloween at Pizza Luce in Duluth needs to refer to this year as Grouchy Halloween '07. Amirite?